Karl replied: Not at this time.
I asked specifically: Haven’t you located that stupid village yet?
Herr Hellmann replied: That’s irrelevant if you’re not at liberty to travel, and that is information you shouldn’t have before you meet Colonel Mang. We’ll let you know when and if you get to Hue.
I thought about that and concluded that they had located the village, or always knew its location. Also, the name of the village was not and had never been Tam Ki. They’d changed that in the letter, of course, so if anyone here were squeezing my nuts, and if I gave it up, it wasn’t my actual destination. In fact, Tam Ki might not exist. Fairly certain of my conclusion, I asked Susan, “Does Tam Ki mean anything in Vietnamese?”
“Spell it.”
I spelled it.
She said, “The whole language is based on accent marks, diphthongs, and stuff like that — compliments of the French who gave them the Roman alphabet. Unless you pronounce it right, or know the accent marks, I can’t translate it.”
“Can it be a village? A place name?”
“Could be, but for instance, T-A-M can mean to bathe, or a heart, depending on the pronunciation, which is based on the accent marks. Tam cai is a toothpick, tam loi is an air bubble. See what I mean?”
“Yeah… how about K-I?”
“K-I is usually a prefix — ki-cop is stingy, ki-cang is carefully, ki-keo is to bargain or complain.”
“Could this just be a made-up name?”
“Could be. Doesn’t sound like a place name.”
I looked back at the screen and saw: Acknowledge.
I replied in the military style: Affirmative, which has different shades of meaning, depending on who’s talking to whom, and how the conversation is going. In this case, it meant: Yeah. I added, to see what he’d say: Do you want me to research the location of this village?
The reply was immediate: Negative. Do not ask and do not look at maps. Maps are inaccurate and many villages have the same name. We will contact you if and when you get to Hue.
I replied: Roger. How are you making out with names of suspects and name of victim?
Karl replied: Narrowing list. Then: If at liberty, where will you go tomorrow?
I replied: Narrowing list.
He answered me: Colonel Mang wants an itinerary and so do we.
I looked up at Susan and asked her, “Where would be a good place to go from here tomorrow to kill a few days?”
“Paris.”
“How about a little closer to Saigon? Someplace where Westerners go.”
“Well, Dalat, the French mountain resort. The rail line is still blown up, but you can get there by car or bus.”
“Okay, any place else?”
“There’s the old French beach resort of Vung Tau.”
“So, I have my choice of the mountains or the beach. Where’s Vung Tau?”
“A little south of here. I can take you with my motorcycle. I go there on weekends.”
“I need to head north.”
“Why don’t you call your travel agent?”
“Come on. Help me out.”
“You didn’t want my help.”
“I apologize.”
“Say please.”
“Please.” I couldn’t believe I’d gotten myself in this situation; hounded by a Vietnamese version of Lieutenant Colombo, apologizing to a sulky upper-middle-class snot, and Karl shoveling shit at me over the Internet. Where is my M-16 when I need it?
I calmed down and asked Susan, “How about Nha Trang?”
She nodded. “Not bad. Not too far, nice beach, and lots of places to stay. Do you know it?”
“Yeah. I actually had a three-day in-country R&R there in ’68.” I asked her, “Are there any Western tourists there?”
“Usually. It’s still warm enough to swim there. You won’t stand out, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s what I mean.” I also meant I didn’t want to wind up in some godforsaken place where the fuzz could pick me up without any of my compatriots around to witness it. But that was negative thinking. Visualize success. I asked Susan, “Can I get there easily?”
“I can get you there, and I can find you a place to stay. Money talks, and I have a good travel agent who does business with the firm.”
“Okay. Nha Trang. Thanks.”
I started typing, and she said, “Tell them I’m going with you.”
“Yeah. Right.” I typed: My intended destination is Nha Trang — unless transportation or accommodations are not available. If it changes, Ms. W will let you know ASAP.
Karl replied: Understand. Suggest you stay in Nha Trang or alternate until Hue rendezvous. The less movement, the better. Fax Ms. W your Nha Trang or alternate address when you arrive. Instruct her to give it to the consulate.
Susan said to me, “Did you tell them?”
“I did. They said flat out no.”
“You didn’t ask them. Tell them you need a guide and interpreter.”
I typed: I will attempt to keep to the itinerary I give to Mang until the time I leave Hue for Tam Ki. The missing days between Hue and Hanoi may cause some problems when I show up in Hanoi.
Karl replied: If you’re still having a police problem when you get to Hanoi, contact Mr. Eagan at embassy. But do not go to embassy unless instructed. Acknowledge.
Roger. I pictured myself living in the American embassy for five years while the State Department negotiated my safe departure from the Socialist Republic. This really sucked. I asked: Should I contact you from Hue — directly or through Ms. W?
The reply came: Negative. If you don’t check in at the designated hotel in Hue, we will know and will assume a problem. When you do check in, you’ll be instructed regarding further communication.
Instructed by whom?, I asked.
Karl replied: You’ll be contacted.
I typed: Anything further regarding my Hue contact?
Karl responded: Negative. Do you understand your rendezvous times and places?
I answered: Affirmative. 32 down. The word was rotisserie.
Karl replied: The word had nothing to do with it. Do you understand your instructions?
I replied: I do.:). I added: Hey, I saw the Cu Chi tunnels, Highway 13, the Michelin plantation. Good tank country. Did you have fun?
Karl replied: :(.
I typed: We should come back together.
He replied: I’ll think about that. Remember, we need to know what happens tomorrow re Mang. Are you confident in Ms. Weber’s understanding of what she needs to do?
I replied: She’s very savvy, resourceful, motivated. Give her a raise.
He replied: I have nothing further. You?
Yeah. What the hell is this all about? But I typed: Cynthia? Honolulu?
I waited for the reply, and it seemed a long time before it came up on the screen. It said: We have not been in contact with her. But your travel arrangements are made from Bangkok to Honolulu, then Maui.
I typed: Contact her.
Karl’s reply was: She’s on a case. But if she intends to meet you in Honolulu, the army will approve her leave quickly, and get her to Hawaii. He added: Focus on mission.